


Running with the Pack

by tigersharktimes



Series: Lunation [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Dialogue, Canon Related, Declarations Of Love, Derek Has Feelings, Dialogue Heavy, Fluff and Humor, Kissing, M/M, POV Derek, Post-Finale, Season/Series 06, Series Finale, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Spanking, The Pack Knows, Visions in dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigersharktimes/pseuds/tigersharktimes
Summary: What happened when Stiles and Derek returned to Beacon Hills?





	Running with the Pack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badly_knitted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/gifts).



> *growls* 
> 
> Okay. Here we go. The last part. Jump in.

An odd light illuminates the patch of thick trees he is running through, and the harsh blows of twigs hitting his face and body make him feel dizzyingly alive. He isn't scared for the she-wolf is running with him. The Alpha. A mysterious and sublime creature whose presence makes him feel confident and mature. Enraptured with delight he keeps running along, listening to his steady heartbeat, and the sounds of a magical night. _Derek. Derek. Come on, wake up._ He frowns and looks at his forepaws. He counts eleven toes. Is he dreaming? Is he caught in a place unreal? Is he chasing an illusion? He and the she-wolf reach a magnificent clearing. The moon above turns sugary red. Oh. He stops. He stares. _Don't be scared._  
  
The she-wolf stops, too, and shifts, turning into her. "Look," his mom says, "a strawberry moon. Isn't it dazzling?"  
  
"I guess," he says. "I've never seen such a moon. What does it mean?"  
  
"As if you don't know," Talia says. She smiles. "I love you, my beautiful boy." She shifts back into a wolf and vanishes into the emerald green of the woods, which are filled with sweet flavors and familiar native sounds. She howls a greeting, and shortly after, her mate, and the pack answer in manifold voices.  
  
"Wait," he calls out, but she is gone. The shade of the moon turns crimson, and the sounds of the forest fall silent, just the leaves quiver as he trembles. A different shape appears in the dark, coming at him. It looks not like a wolf, not like him, it looks like... a hand reaches out... the scent of peppermint tickles his nose. Oh. He gasps. Is this real? Can it be? The shape closes in, touching him.  
  
_Hey, big guy._ Derek jerked awake. Slightly disoriented he looked around, finding himself in tousled bedsheets with Stiles lying beside him. Okay. Good. He didn't feel scared, though, just curious. Such a strange dream. He hasn't had such a dream in a long time. Since the death of his family. What does that mean? What lies ahead? What does the future hold for him? For Stiles?  
  
Well. Whatever it was he couldn't think about that now. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and got up.  
  
Stiles was sleeping on his back, his arms spread out, his legs squashed around the blanket, presenting ten toes, rosy and faultless.  
  
_Ah. Tasty._ Yet Derek resisted the temptation to ravish him some more. Instead he pulled a shirt and some pants from the bag Stiles had brought along yesterday and put them on. Dressed he nudged his worn-out lover who just started snoring like a freight train. "Hey. Get up. Time to go."  
  
Stiles stretched lazily. "What?"  
  
"We need to take care of things."  
  
"Already? I thought..." Stiles swallowed. "Okay. Fine." He got up, looking pretty disheveled, searching clumsily for his clothes.  
  
Derek bit back a grin. "Sorry, I didn't want to dim the afterglow. We'll have plenty of time for _more_ as soon as the mess in Beacon Hills is settled. I promise we'll do all the things we haven't done yet." He didn't lie, was wishing fervently for days to fool around, some sort of a honeymoon.  
  
"Yeah, right." Stiles blushed. "What is going on at home?"  
  
"Don't you know?" He went to the bathroom but left the door open. "Didn't they call you?"  
  
"No. Why? What is it?" Stiles struggled with his left sock.  
  
"I'll tell you in the car." He finished his sparse morning ritual and swapped places with Stiles. "By the way, perfect fit." He buckled his belt.  
  
"I checked you out more times than I can count."  
  
_Don't say that and look like a chewed-up puppy._ In danger of ending up in bed again he rushed their departure. "Come on now. Let's go." He fetched the car keys.  
  
"I'll be out in a second!" Stiles bitched, mouth full of toothpaste. "If I'd known we were in such a hurry we should have left right away instead of sleeping in."  
  
Derek leaned against the doorframe, indulging himself in the sight of his easily flustered beau, spitting into the sink. "We should have, yes, but don't forget, your toe needed proper treatment."  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Excuse me. Some things are still private." He closed the bathroom door.  
  
Derek snorted and walked to the window. Outside the morning dew dipped the world in silvery light. The beauty of the sight made his mouth turn dry; he was grateful to be alive and have the chance to relish the wonders of the world.  
  
Shortly after, he and Stiles had settled in the Camaro and he pulled out of the parking space. Surprisingly he was able to cover the distance of a few miles before Stiles opened his mouth again. "This car. Way better than the Toyota. Back to the roots, huh?"  
  
"Shut up," Derek murmured, but couldn't help the smile spreading over his face.  
  
"No way. I want to know everything. Beacon Hills. You. Go ahead."  
  
"Fine, but only because you won't stop annoying me otherwise." He illuminated Stiles on the situation at home; the response was a resounding, "Holy Fuck! Why didn't they call me? If they aren't dead already I'll kill them."  
  
Derek didn't disagree, rather he took the opportunity to finally tell Stiles everything that happened to him in the time they had been apart. The months in Brazil, living with Cora and the pack, the slaughtered werewolves and why he was on the run. Partly he gave it all up to distract Stiles, and make up for leaving him in the dark for such a long time, partly because he wanted to. Stiles's brave confession about Donovan had to be repaid with the same trust and honesty. "So, that's it. Happy now?"  
  
"Yeah, well, I just wonder... why Brazil... you speak Spanish, not Portuguese, right?"  
  
"I speak both languages," he said humbly.  
  
"Uh... okay... by the way, did you call Cora?" Stiles stifled a yawn.  
  
"Sure. I told her all about your stupid solo rescue mission."  
  
Stiles didn't take the bait. "How is she?"  
  
"Oh, just fine, considering she's with Isaac."  
  
"What?" Stiles jumped in his seat. "That's a joke, right?"  
  
"No," Derek grumbled. "Actually, it's no problem. He's a good werewolf. She could have chosen worse."  
  
"Like me?" Stiles elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
"I would have torn both of you apart."  
  
"Man, Cora and Isaac. How did that happen?"  
  
"I have no idea. When I arrived I caught them kissing, though they didn't look ashamed. I got the impression they've been together for some time already."  
  
"Did you say something?" Stiles chortled. "Did you make a scene?"  
  
"All I said was, 'So? My sister'?" He huffed, remembering the awkward moment. "So? Stiles? That was Isaac's reply."  
  
Isaac's cockiness made Stiles bubble with laughter, slapping his thighs, too. "Oh my god, I'm truly sorry I missed that awesome spectacle."  
  
"You missed a lot more. It wasn't all fun down there. I ran into Kate, too. She shot me."  
  
"What?" He stopped laughing, and gaped, horrified.  
  
"Don't get excited. Chris was with me and fired back. She ran off." Amazing how unaffected the further clash with Kate had left him, even though he'd figured it had been her who had passed on the incriminating footage to the FBI; one more attempt to destroy him.  
  
"I hope she'll never turn up again."  
  
He shrugged. "If she does I can handle her." He was over her. He was finally ready to make a life for himself and forget about the shit that happened a long time ago. He didn't even hate Kate anymore. She was a lonely woman, consumed by hate, and the longing for the approval of her father. He could only pity her.  
  
"If she does I'll make her pay," Stiles said cockily, and yawned.  
  
_I bet. That's why I hope she won't._ "Don't be shy. Sleep it off." Derek patted his thigh. "I was too hard on you."  
  
"It's just my toe. I need the rest to heal properly," Stiles denied the innuendo and closed his eyes; a rosy gleam marked his cheeks making his moles stand out seductively.  
  
"Sure, whatever you say." Derek smiled at his ridiculous expression in the rear view mirror. _Who are you? What happened to you? Why are you so stupidly happy?_  
  


***************

  
At sundown they arrived in Beacon Hills. First they made a stop at Scott's house getting Stiles's baby, the Jeep. Neither someone of the pack nor any of the adults picked up their phones. Uneasy they rushed on to the school in separate cars. They got there just in time to help their surrounded friends in fighting an entire pack of hunters. Stiles announced himself by slamming his Jeep into one of them, saving Scott from being shot.  
  
Derek snarled, and jumped out of the Camaro.  
  
"You didn't think you were doing this without me, did ya?" Stiles jeered at his best friend.  
  
"Without us?" Derek quipped, leaning in front of the Jeep's sidewindow. _Slow down. Don't do any more of that crazy stuff, okay? Otherwise I'll have to hog-tie you._  
  
Scott gawked, glued to a pillar.  
  
The hunters kept on shooting, not caring about the bittersweet reunion. Derek skipped any more small talk and went flying through the air attacking them, unconcerned about their impressive automatic weapons. Talk about crazy, huh? Well, the surprise was on their side and all together they succeeded in chasing the mob away; though not soon enough to save Deucalion from dying. Scott was devastated about the loss of a strong ally, but more than happy to see Derek. He returned Derek's hug right away.  
  
Derek realized how much he'd missed him and all his other friends, and as he noticed that his uncle was helping Scott in his fight too, even his grudge towards Peter mellowed a bit. Stirred up he told his friends about the slaughtered pack in Brazil and the words 'Beacon Hills' written on the wall.  
  
"You came back for Beacon Hills?" Scott said, disbelieving.  
  
"No. I came back for you," Derek said. Stiles, the idiot, snorted. Derek glared at him. _Hey, you have no reason to be jealous. I on the other hand noticed the thing that's going on between you and Lydia no matter how much you try to hide it. What about that, huh?_  
  
After being given an ultimatum by Gerard via radio the pack withdrew to the animal clinic where Stiles told his story about how he'd saved Derek from the FBI. "So literally, it was day one of my internship, and up comes a slide about this guy that they've been chasing in the woods of North Carolina."  
  
"I thought you were in South America," Malia said.  
  
"I was. The bodies of the werewolves I told you about? They blamed me," Derek explained to her.  
  
"So I learn that the FBI has cornered this feral mass-murdering unsub..." Stiles continued, sounding slightly irritated.  
  
"I found a group of hunters gathering in a meeting place," Derek interrupted him, annoyed, but also concerned, because Malia had spilled that she'd known about his whereabouts. Stiles must be pissed that she knew and he didn't. "I was trying to get information."  
  
"Well, the FBI found out about it too, and they were planning a SWAT assault to take him down. Dead or alive," Stiles talked on, looking at Derek. "And, as we all know, though, with Derek, it's preferably dead."  
  
"Preferably," Derek agreed dryly. Okay. Fine. Stiles was pissed. This was his payback.  
  
"So I convinced them to take me on the Field Op," Stiles bragged.  
  
"You convinced the FBI to bring an intern onto an extremely dangerous field operation?" Lydia said, incredulous.  
  
"I'm surprised he didn't convince them he could lead it." I'm not mad, okay. I mean it. I know you could pull it off.  
  
Stiles looked at him. "I tried. Didn't work." He licked his lips. "Anyway, long story short, I basically, you know, had to save his life. He was wounded badly and I dragged him along. He couldn't walk."  
  
"That's not how it happened," Derek interrupted. Lover or not, Stiles's heroic tale was a bit too much for his taste.  
  
"Yeah. I may have left out a detail, but that's the gist of what happened. It was the essential essence of it," Stiles insisted.  
  
" _You_ couldn't walk," Derek said, good-natured. "I had to carry _you_."  
  
"No way. I was only limping," Stiles corrected stubbornly.  
  
"You couldn't walk and I know that because I was carrying you - in my arms," Derek countered. Enough was enough. He was no Alpha, but still a werewolf. "You were screaming. You fainted."  
  
"They shot my toe. You want to see it?" Stiles argued, pouting.  
  
"I've seen it," Derek said, rolling his eyes. "And more. Wanna talk about that?"  
  
"No," Stiles squeaked, blushing.  
  
Lydia smiled. Scott and Malia stared curiously at Stiles.  
  
"My toe was caught in the crossfire. It was obliterated!" Stiles said, glaring at Derek.  
  
_I sucked it fine, didn't I?_ Derek returned the glare, unoffended.  
  
"Okay, forget your toe," Lydia said.  
  
"Obliterated," Stiles whined.  
  
"Guys, it's not just the hunters. We've got another problem," Scott broke off their banter.  
  
"It's called the Anuk-ite," Lydia agreed.  
  
Fed with all the data about the shapeshifter who knew what you fear the most, a monster that could kill you by just looking at you, they split up. Lydia and Stiles were instructed to find Argent, get to the Armory and rescue Jackson. Scott, Malia and Derek headed off to stop the Anuk-ite.  
  
"Oh, it's nice to see that somebody hasn't lost their optimism," Derek said.  
  
"Not yet," Scott downplayed.  
  
"I have," Stiles needled them.  
  
What is it with you and always going against the tide? Derek pulled him aside. "What is going on with you, huh? You're usually not like this."  
  
"I don't know what you mean?" Stiles kept him at bay. "I'm always like this."  
  
"Is this about you and Lydia?" He paused, and swallowed. "If it's her you want, don't worry. I won't get in the way."  
  
"Uh... no... it's not like that... we are not an item... uh... not technically."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"We just kissed... and held hands... we haven't fooled around or anything like that."  
  
"Such a consolation."  
  
"Who are you to judge me anyway? You were gone for months. I didn't even know if you were alive."  
  
"You're right." He huffed. "We have more important things to think about."  
  
"Derek..."  
  
"Hey!" Scott called. "Are you two coming?"  
  
"Go on. Go with Lydia," he urged Stiles. "Find Jackson. We'll talk later."  
  
"We will?" Stiles said, disbelieving.  
  
_I hope so,_ Derek thought, _for the sake of me, and the future I imagined we might have some day._  
  
"What's going on with you two?" Scott started questioning him just around the corner.  
  
"Nothing." Derek shrugged. Well, there was nothing to tell. Having great sex wasn't enough to think you're in a relationship. "He's with Lydia."  
  
"He wasn't last night." Scott smirked.  
  
"Your senses are impressive," Derek granted, sour. "What about you and Malia? What happened to Kira?" _So much has changed since I left. So many things I don't know about. Such as since when is Stiles with Lydia?_  
  
Scott sighed. "She's with the Skinwalkers. I don't know how long that's gonna take. I was lonely. If she ever comes back... uh.... I'm not sure what's gonna happen then. It's gonna be a problem."  
  
"You think?" Derek snorted. _A kitsune and a werewolf. And I thought I had problems._  
  
"Yeah, go on, mock me. That doesn't change my joy about your return."  
  
"I am the last one to mock anyone about their choices in life."  
  
Shortly after Derek couldn't waste time thinking about anyone's choices anymore anyway. He wasn't even sure if he had any future left. Scott was badly injured, Malia was chasing the huntress that poisoned him with wolfs bane, Peter was already petrified, and he was confronted with a creature he'd thought was gone from his life for good. One of _his_ worst choices in life.  
  
A ghost was calling his name. A simulation of Jennifer was testing his strength. Sure he knew it wasn't her. Jennifer was dead. Still, hearing her voice, begging him to open his eyes, feeling her touch, scenting her distinct flavor, was tearing at his heart. He couldn't deny that once he had been in love with her. Blinded by her beauty and her kindness he had fallen for a woman who had lied to him right from the start, who turned out to be as evil as Kate. The second woman that deceived him horribly. Kate and Jennifer, two women he shouldn't miss for obvious reasons, though sometimes he did out of loneliness. They had been an important part of his life, a bitter memory burned into his flesh, like the death of his family.  
  
He had learned his lesson, though, and tried to resist the calling until he felt like bursting into flames. In the end he couldn't resist anymore. The pressure was tearing into his very soul and he had to open his eyes to catch one breath of relief. The Anuk-ite glared at him and he was petrified instantly.  
  
A horrific sensation, similar to the feeling when he was being deaged, alive and at the same time not. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, yet he heard every sound and smelled every scent floating around him, and that's why he was well aware that death was coming for him; the hunters gathering around him, determined to kill him and everyone else fighting at his side.  
  
_Stiles. I love you. I thought we could make a future for us. I hope you'll get away and be happy. I can die in peace if I know you are happy. I just hoped I could share that happiness with you. As always I hoped in vain._  
  
The second he believed that was the end of his existence a sharp pain pierced through him and he broke free in a violent blast, chunks of rock crashing to the ground. A wave of air rushed into his lungs making his body strong and flexible again. In ecstasy he roared and attacked the hunters, injured some of them, until the few that remained were running for their lives. Good. No. Not good. Where was Stiles? Where was Scott? Where was the pack? He sniffed dust and gunpowder, as well as blood and desperation, and following the sickening scent he was led to the library, where he was confronted with a most distressing sight.  
  
Stiles, Scott and Lydia crouched on the stairs; the Alpha was the one in need, having two holes in his head instead of the distinct red eyes. Scott must have clawed his own eyes out to defeat the Anuk-ite. The ground around the small group was covered with specific remains. "Who threw the mountain ash?" Derek said, as he realized why he was still in the world, still breathing life.  
  
"Me." Stiles shortly raised his hand, and then went back to taking care of Scott, even though he couldn't do anything for him.  
  
_Sure, you did,_ Derek mused, humbled. _Stiles Stilinski. My savior. As usual._  
  
He squared his shoulders and joined his friends, looking horrified at Scott's sacrifice. Scott was undeniably a true Alpha. Unfortunately Scott wasn't able to heal himself. Helplessly Derek stood around, reaching for words, when Malia burst through the doors. Stiles moved and let her kneel right next to Scott, though Malia looked as helpless as they all were. Only Lydia was not out of her wits, telling Malia to kiss Scott. The strange advice worked miracles. Just in time, before the damage was permanent, Scott healed due to a simple yet passionate kiss. Derek watched in awe and wondered why his mom had never taught him about such a thing. Hadn't she known or had she kept it a secret for whatever reason?  
  
Stiles, who was holding hands with Lydia, looked at him as if he wanted to kiss Derek as well. Right here, right now.  
  
As much as Derek longed to hold him in his arms, and kiss him until they both had no breath left, he shook his head. No. Not here. Not now.  
  
His control paid off because a second later Peter disturbed the victorious moment. "Guys, we still have to make sure that no hunters are left."  
  
"I need to see how my dad is doing," Stiles agreed, and wriggled his hand free from Lydia's grip. She didn't look hurt. "I need to find Jackson." She and Stiles rushed out, leaving Scott in Malia's care.  
  
"Aren't you going with him?" Peter asked Derek, smirking.  
  
Derek turned and cracked his neck. His muscles were still a little stiff, and his heart was unsure of what to do next, though he didn't mind his uncle's harmless teasing. Not anymore. "What does it matter to you?"  
  
"I just want you to find some happiness."  
  
"Sure you do. You proved that often enough."  
  
Peter shrugged. "I'm a creature of habit."  
  


***************

  
Beacon Hills was out of danger. Gerard was dead. The evil man who had caused a lot of destruction and pain didn't exist anymore. When Derek learned from Chris Argent that his sister was the one who had killed their father by ripping him apart, his current moderate feelings towards Kate mellowed a bit more. He hadn't forgotten the night when Gerard had kidnapped Stiles and beat him up badly. Certainly Kate for once had done the right thing. That she had escaped was not as bad as he might have considered a while ago. He was almost sure he would never see her again.  
  
Despite the good news he hadn't left the loft for two days. Instead of celebrating with his friends he was prowling through the rooms, brooding, struggling against his needs by taking a lot of cold showers. He even went to Beacon Hill's High School, walked into the hall with the swimming pool, memorizing the hours of fighting to stay alive an eternity ago. Back then he had already known he had lost his heart to Stiles saving his life heroically, yet he kept fighting his feelings for years to come because he didn't want his heart broken once again. He feared the power that Stiles had over him, but even more he feared a life without Stiles.  
  
On the third evening after the battle a call from Cora pushed him to make a decision. "Hey, how's my favorite brother?"  
  
"Fine. How's Isaac? How's the pack?"  
  
"All good, though the cubs miss Mr. Grumpy teaching them new tricks."  
  
Derek smiled. He missed the little ones, too. "Tell them, I'll see them soon."  
  
"Oh? Don't you need to stay around longer? What about Stiles?"  
  
"He's better without me," he said, unable to suppress the sharp edge in his tone.  
  
"Ouch!" Cora picked up on it. "I bet you're home, brooding away in the dark."  
  
"..."  
  
"Come on, Derek. Go on and swoop him into your arms. I bet he's home, suffering the same as you."  
  
"She's right, you know."  
  
Derek jerked around, catching sight of Peter leaning against the window. "What do _you_ want?"  
  
"I'm looking for the boy who was brave enough to end the misery of the girl he loved, who dated a freaking hunter, and survived the greatest loss and tragedy. Is he here?"  
  
Derek huffed. _Even somebody as burned and dead on the inside as me knows better than to underestimate the simple yet undeniable power of human love._ Well, Peter couldn't be trusted, no matter he'd done good recently, but in that matter he had been right. More than once Derek had underestimated humans, particularly Stiles, but he wouldn't make that mistake ever again.  
  
"Okay, fine, just to shut both of you up I'll do it." He heard his sister hooting and switched the phone off.  
  
"That's the wolf I knew you would become," Peter said, unusually caring. He destroyed the moment, though, making an explicit gesture. "Have fun. Show the loudmouth who's on top."  
  
Derek ignored his uncle's usual nature and left, walking over to the Stilinski home. At his arrival he didn't knock right away, but stood on the porch for minutes, breathing in and out. Finally he worked up the courage to rap his knuckles against the wood. If Stiles had Lydia in his room he would go away but at least he wouldn't regret for the rest of his life not having tried.  
  
The sheriff opened the door. "Derek."  
  
"Hi. May I speak to Stiles, please?"  
  
"Sure. Come on in. What about?"  
  
"Uh... about me and Stiles, about getting your permission to date your son," he spluttered, before he froze up again, and put his tail between his legs.  
  
"Well, son, why don't you stop pussyfooting around then? Just admit you wanna stay over."  
  
_Damn. That man and his killer instinct._ "Uh... ah... I wasn't sure... isn't he with Lydia?" His face turned hot and his heart weighed a ton.  
  
"No, the two have broken up. I appreciate you asking, though Stiles was less concerned about her feelings chasing after you."  
  
"Ah... sir, I didn't know about them being an item when we... uh..." Derek silenced, shocked about what he'd almost said out loud to the sheriff's face. Sure, Stiles was eighteen now, but a father wouldn't like to hear about _such_ things _ever_.  
  
"I know you didn't. Stiles confessed that after he'd broken up with her. I'm glad you two came to an understanding after all."  
  
"I'm glad, too." _Did we? Have I missed it? Am I the one in the dark?_ "So, can I stay over - sir?"  
  
"I'd rather have you two here under my roof than being arrested for indecent behavior in a public place."  
  
"We'd never..." Now his face felt like it was burning to the tips of his ears.  
  
"Don't even start, okay? I once was your age. I know how things are. Go on now. He is waiting."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Call me Noah." He reached out and shook Derek's hand.  
  
"Thank you, Noah, then."  
  
"Welcome to the family, Derek."  
  
Derek smiled, and sneaked upstairs. He wanted to surprise Stiles, though he found the room empty. The shower was running. He settled in the chair he'd once taken the night after the disaster in the pool, rocking back and forth, bracing himself for the coming discussion.  
  
A few minutes later Stiles strolled out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. He stopped in his tracks. "Hey."  
  
_Cold showers, huh?_ "I tried that, too. Didn't work." Derek checked him out, remembering their first night in this bed, and the distinct secret Stiles had given away in his sleep. _...oh...come on... please... please... sourwolf... trust me..._ "That night in the pool you saved me - and then again and again like a few days ago. I wouldn't be here without you being incredibly brave."  
  
"Yeah, well, I lost count of how many times I saved you anyway." Stiles stirred into motion and flopped onto the bed. "So? What's up?"  
  
"Nothing much. Just wanted to see you." _Fine. Let's beat around the bush._ He couldn't help himself, he needed to check Stiles from top to toe, lingering at the waistline.  
  
Stiles licked his lips. "If you think you're gonna sleep here, it's not gonna happen."  
  
"No?" _Adorable. Doesn't he know he reeks of desire?_  
  
"I thought you were long gone."  
  
"Couldn't. Need to talk to you first."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah." He took a deep breath and forced himself not to cross his arms. "I didn't tell anyone that the Anuk-ite appeared to me as Jennifer." He clenched his fists. "I couldn't resist opening my eyes to look at her, though I knew she was not real. The good thing is my strong reaction made me realize why I once was so smitten with her. She reminded me of you, Stiles, brave, quirky and devoted."  
  
"Ha!" Stiles barked. "She was an evil bitch."  
  
"Sure, but fact is I got a type since I was fifteen. Since I got my heart broken. I didn't see it then but I do now." Derek sighed. "I like the ones who stand up to me, who don't fear what I am, the same as Paige, my first love."  
  
"I know about her. Peter told me."  
  
He scowled. "I know. I made Cora tell _me_ about the deceit." _Peter. Always meddling in my life. Isn't that one of the reasons why Paige is dead?_  
  
"You did, did you?" Stiles grinned, shaking his head. "Bad wolf."  
  
He winced. "Were you repulsed by my final action? About what I had to do to her?"  
  
"No, I just felt so much sorrow for you and her. She sounded like a great girl."  
  
"She was." A flash of the sweetest memory pinched his heart. Paige. Fearless. Strong-willed. Kind and full of life. He would never forget her. Never. "Well, she was a lot like you."  
  
Stiles puffed, relaxing, almost melting into the mattress. "I kept secrets, too. I never told you about my mom. Uh...I was eight when she got very sick."  
  
"I'm sorry." I am. I sure know about painful losses. I know how hard it is to let go.  
  
"That's only the half of it. She was suffering from dementia. She thought I was trying to kill her."  
  
"What?" Derek stopped the rocking and leaned forward.  
  
"That was the worst." Stiles gulped, kneading the towel. "That she thought I was a monster that was after her. The evil child she wanted to die." He stopped, sniffled, and let his head hang.  
  
In a split second Derek got up and crossed the room. He sat down at the edge of the bed though he didn't dare to touch Stiles yet.  
  
"Sometimes I wondered if I would go insane like she did." Stiles shivered and put his arms around himself. "One day I met you and felt immediately drawn to you. I think because you know how it is to lose loved ones at a young age. I met you and everything turned easier despite all the craziness that was happening around us. Then bam! The nogitsune happened and I was close to losing it. I became the monster my mom imagined me to be."  
  
"Stiles, I'm so sorry." Derek put a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing. "If I had known I would have..."  
  
"What? Been nicer to me? That would have been a mistake. Back then I needed you to be just the way you were."  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Derek quirked an eyebrow. "Who was I actually?"  
  
The hint of a smile touched Stiles's mouth. "A scary, annoyingly good-looking murder suspect."  
  
A just fit. Derek gave him that. "And now?"  
  
"Now, for the reason that you're still annoyingly handsome, now I need you to get rid of your shirt, _Miguel_ , and sex me right up."  
  
_"Eres imposible,"_ Derek growled and pulled him into his arms. Just holding Stiles made him feel exceedingly happy. Stiles smelled like home. Stiles smelled like mate. " _Te deseo_." Derek kissed him, a tender caress of the pouty lips, a silent promise of endless pleasures.  
  
"Oh God. I can't resist you talking in exotic tongues," Stiles purred, yet he struggled against Derek's explicit advances. "Unfortunately my dad is downstairs."  
  
"I know." Derek yanked the towel off. "He said hi when he sent me upstairs."  
  
"Oh my god!" Stiles squealed with glee. "That's so weird, don't you think?"  
  
He ran a finger from Stiles's left foot up to the milky thigh. "Only because you were messing around with Lydia and me."  
  
"That's right. I deserve to be spanked. I deserve to be marked."  
  
"Fine. That's for Lydia." _Smack_ Derek slapped the wickedly posing ass.  
  
"Ah. Sure. Oh...ah..." Stiles licked his lips, now writhing even more brazenly on the sheets.  
  
"That's for Malia." _Smack_  
  
"There was also the FBI-"  
  
_Smack_ That naughty boy. He wanted to lick him clean. He needed to bury himself in his mole-peppered curves.  
  
"Ah...what strong paws you have big bad wolf."  
  
Derek laughed. Well, the world was a happy place when his babe said the most ridiculous things. "Sure, with those I can spank you better."  
  
"Oh yes. Come on. Spank me good. Spank me hard!"  
  
"Stiles! Derek! For heaven's sake!" Sheriff Noah Stilinski screamed from downstairs. "Keep it down!"  
  


***************

  
Eleven days into the New Year, Derek and Stiles were both invited to the engagement party of Chris and Melissa, which was taking place at the Argent home. At their arrival the room was already crowded with guests hitting the dance floor, or talking cheerfully in various corners.  
  
Considering that Melissa's son Scott was once in love with Chris's daughter Allison, Derek eyed the hosts curiously. _What the heck? How did that happen? Wasn't life unpredictable?_ Still wondering he then spotted an equal surprise. Lydia was attending the party with Deputy Jordan Parrish, dancing cheek to cheek with him, giving everyone around a clear message. Well. He wasn't the only one taken aback by their intimacy.  
  
"Holy shit!" Stiles stopped in his tracks and gaped at the couple.  
  
Lydia pulled the deputy even closer and raised a mocking eyebrow at Stiles. "What? You think you're the only one who has secrets?"  
  
"Of course not. I just... eh... I never noticed you and Parrish..."  
  
"Certainly not, idiot. You were too busy drooling over Derek since the day you met him. You were worse than Jackson at lying to yourself."  
  
Derek smirked. That girl. No wonder Stiles fell for her. She was the smartest in the pack.  
  
"What are you smiling about, huh?" Stiles snapped at him. "That doesn't mean you were the chosen one. I was just sixteen. I wasn't too picky to get laid. I was horny all the time, and every hunk or beauty within miles-"  
  
Derek knew Stiles smoothed over the awkward moment by yapping too much and knowing how eloquent he was with words there was only one way to make this a win for himself. He pulled Stiles close and kissed him in front of everyone.  
  
The pack literally howled watching the heated kiss between the couple. Only Deaton didn't join the uproar; he just shrugged. "I've seen those two kissing years ago."  
  
Stiles wriggled out of Derek's embrace. "Come on. You knew for some time, didn´t you?" His face was crimson, his lips lush and glossy.  
  
"Kind of," Scott agreed. "We still need to get used to seeing _that_ happening, though." Liam and Malia nodded, snorting with laughter.  
  
"You and Scott?" Stiles said snippily to Malia. "That's the bummer. What the hell happened there? What about Theo? I thought you two had a thing?"  
  
"He shot me," Malia deadpanned.  
  
"Ah, right. Something like that can kill any crush."  
  
"Not yours on Derek," Malia challenged him.  
  
Stiles grinned back crazily. "Derek never shot me. He didn´t need to. He has claws and paws."  
  
"That's a joke, right?" the sheriff interrupted the strange conversation. "Derek never hurt you."  
  
Derek cringed. _Oh hell. Quiet now. Don't take the bait._  
  
Stiles did not - kind of. "No, dad, Derek _FBI's most wanted_ Hale never laid a finger on me."  
  
The pack howled with laughter.  
  
Derek coughed. "Okay. We're done here. This show is over. Go and find your amusement somewhere else." He grabbed Stiles by the arm. "Come on. Let's have a non-alcoholic drink." Though instead of to the bar he pulled Stiles into a cozy corner.  
  
"Hey. Easy there, wolfman," Stiles hooted, once again drawing all the attention to them.  
  
"Quiet."  
  
"Me, be quiet? Me, huh? You're telling me what to do now?"  
  
"As if?" Derek snorted. "What about I just need to show you something." He fished a little box from his pocket.  
  
"Oh my God," Stiles squeaked. "Are you kidding me?"  
  
"It's not that." He opened the box. A necklace with a tiny anchor was inside. "Happy Anniversary."  
  
"What? Why? What day is this?"  
  
"Today it's been three years since I caught you invading the private property of my family."  
  
"You remember that?"  
  
"Sure, I do. I knew right there and then that _you are_ the chosen one."  
  
"Oh, come on. You did not."  
  
"I knew for sure after our time in the pool. Do you believe that?"  
  
"Maybe, if that was the reason why you marked me that night?"  
  
"I think so, yes." Derek gulped. "I put up a severe struggle to keep away from you, but that's done. I won't run anymore. I love you, Mieczyslaw Stilinski."  
  
"Oh, hell." Stiles rolled his eyes. "I should have never told you."  
  
"Okay. Fine." He bit down a snarky reply. "I love you, _Stiles._ Better?"  
  
"Well, to quote Han Solo, I-"  
  
For the second time on this eventful evening Derek claimed that pouty mouth and cheeky tongue, getting only satisfying movements and muffled sounds in return.  
  
"Hey, guys! Get a room, please," Noah Stilinski cried out, while their friends cheered them on shamelessly.  
  
Still the twosome barely managed to let go of each other. "Let's dance," Derek murmured, putting the necklace on Stiles, hooking the lock with shaking hands.  
  
"Uh uh... as tight as Lydia and Jordan, please."  
  
"Preferably," Derek agreed, over the moon.  
  
Two months later Stiles and Derek rented a flat in Washington and moved in together. As expected Stiles aced his internship at the FBI and had no problems whatsoever refusing the advances of his teamleader. Derek supported his aims in life in every way possible and pursued a career in teaching self-defense.  
  
They called the sheriff every week, and often Derek was the one doing most of the talking. The sheriff was happy about how things had turned out and his son's happiness gave him the courage to ask Mrs. Martin out again. She said yes.  
  
Now and then Scott called the pack in for a secret meeting to defend Beacon Hills against a new evil coming out of hiding. He and the pack kept protecting the town and its people no matter they were scattered to the four winds.  
  
Whenever Scott called, Derek and Stiles picked up one or two of their friends on the way home. Stiles took the opportunity and reconnected with his old flame Lydia, by now engaged to Jordan Parrish, and Derek spent time with Peter and Malia. They were family after all and Derek would never forget about family, even if Stiles was the center of his life.  
  
Well. Whatever creature disturbed the peace, mostly life was good, and love was even better, fucking bliss to put it bluntly, and despite the calling of their Alpha Scott, Derek and Stiles remained each other's only run and hide, mates in every sense.  
  
_There are nights when a strawberry moon rises up in the sky having the power to turn all the wolves silent and sated._

**Author's Note:**

> THE END.
> 
> Hey. I made it. Wow. I'm so happy right now.
> 
> *purrs*


End file.
